


Feed

by rainbow_kitten_5



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, BadBoyHalo - Freeform, Blood Vines, Cannon, Cat Hybrid Antfrost (Video Blogging RPF), Corruption, Creeper Hybrid Sam | Awesamdude, Eggpire, Gen, Isolation, Mentioned TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Mind Games, Mind Manipulation, Partial Mind Control, Protective Sam | Awesamdude, Self Cannibalism, Sensory Deprivation, crimson vines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 19:21:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29087508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbow_kitten_5/pseuds/rainbow_kitten_5
Summary: Sam is aware of every cell in his body as the mushy red substance swirls around outside the small crack in his obsidian cage. His body withers and recoils in an unsympathetic system. He can’t let himself get corrupted.(A fic of Sam's time being trapped inside the egg)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 146





	Feed

Sam is aware of every cell in his body as the mushy red substance swirls around outside the small crack in his obsidian cage. His body withers and recoils in an unsympathetic system. He can’t let himself get corrupted. 

Sam shifts awkwardly and weakly reaches one of his green arms towards the crack. He can feel his muscles burn. When did he get so weak? Sweat coats skin as he forces his hand to grab onto the crack and tug. He has to get out. This egg is insane. It’s destroying the land covering it in thick mucus-like vines. The almost thick blood pulsing down the strands as it twists around anything it can wrap its tendrils around.

Sam tugs again harder despite knowing it’s a hopeless task. He has to remind himself why the crimson is wrong. It’s brainwashed his friends! Badboyhalo never would have trapped him in here otherwise! They openly admitted to being brainwashed as they spread the spores of the crimson about ignoring any valid points he brings up. 

A hiss escapes Sam as he forces himself to pull harder at the crack begging it to grow any larger. According to Bad the crimson requires ‘’nourishment’’, Sam doesn’t know what that means. It isn’t normal for Bad to be offering rotting flesh as if it were a religious practice to the source of all the blood vines, the egg. Bad has even started discussing feeding entire people to the egg. 

Sam forces his quivering legs up so he’s standing in his small cage and angles himself to put more pressure on the crack. Nothing happens. At least Tommy and Tubbo aren’t in here. There’s no way they would be able to keep going like he is. And if they become corrupted it’ll severely affect the production of the hotel. Sam is trying to create an economy! A city! A place where he can thrive, and most importantly a place where he can get money. That’s why it’s good Tommy’s not here. Nothing to do with Dream’s taunts that echo across the prison floors. Nothing to do with the frightened screams that come from Tommy when he’s in any tight space. Nothing to do with the expression on Tubbo’s face when the boy came running down the path crying for ‘’Sam Nook’’ when Tommy was taken by Bad. Nothing to do with the fire that burned inside him when Puffy explained Ant and Bad’s plans to feed Tommy to the egg. Sam just needs his business plan to run smoothly and stay on track. That’s why. 

Sam collapses, his limbs falling down around him as his energy gives out. Sitting in a box shouldn’t be this exhausting. He’ll get out and stop whatever Bad’s malicious plans are and in the meantime, Puffy will protect Tommy and Tubbo. Tears sting Sam’s eyes, he can’t stay in here any longer. He can barely raise his hands and his chest feels empty. Sam tries to rub his hands across the cool obsidian to ground himself but the surface is too smooth and somehow the crimson keeps the obsidian vaguely warm, not hot enough to burn just enough for the temperature to stay neutral. Sam grimaces, how long has he been in here? Everything is so dark. The black obsidian surrounds him and the crack only provides him with a splash of dark red across his fuzzed vision. 

Is nighttime yet? Has it gotten darker? He can’t tell since he’s underground and it takes too much energy to look up to the small hole above him. He can’t even hear the sound of the birds in the morning or the chirps of crickets in the evening. It has to have been at least an hour, right? Sam tightens his hands until his fingers dig into his palms, the sense runs up his spine and throughout his whole body. Sam doubles over from the intensity of it. A laugh bubbles in his throat and for a moment Sam is frozen in fear worried he was about to start giggling hysterically, but then he remembers he doesn’t have enough energy anyway. Nothing happens, so Sam stops clenching his fists and is plunged back into emptiness. 

They’ll have to feed him eventually right? They want him to bond with the egg, they want him to be infected by the crimson. They aren’t feeding him to it, so they have to keep him alive, right? Bad will come soon and give him at least some water. Sam’s sure of it. Unless this is part of their plan? Are they watching him right now? Waiting for him to beg to scratch at the walls pleading with them to let him out, starve him until he is forced to let the egg in? Let it in where? Into his head? It’s in him Sam can feel it. He won’t let it in.

They are watching him. Sam is convinced they are. He can hear them sometimes. But he also can’t. Was he sure it was Bad that kept telling him about ‘’desires’’? Was he sure it was the padded footsteps off Ant that seemed to bleed into his brain? How long does it take for the crimson to corrupt you? When will they let him out?

Sam’s throat has started to throb. He wants to tell someone he needs a glass of water but he can’t find it in himself to make his mouth move. He’s so tired. He can’t feel his body but he knows his arms are wrapped around his own throat as if he could claw the soreness out of it. Does he even want it to stop? At least the pain is something. Better than nothing. Right? 

A red vine has slithered in through the crack in the obsidian. Sam wonders if he can drink it.

He can’t let himself become corrupted. He has to stop it. He has to think of Fran, his dog patiently waiting for him to come home. Who will protect Fran if he’s gone? Money isn’t worth this torment, his life isn’t worth this torment but Fran is. He has to keep going for Fran. 

The air smells of cinnamon. It didn’t smell like this before. They’ll let him out soon. He’ll lie to them, tell him he can hear the egg. The scent in the air becomes sour as Sam remembers his original plan of holding out on stubbornness to prove a point. He just wants out, everything inside him is attacking him, tearing him in his insides. Someone is speaking in gibberish that he somehow understands.

‘’It’s been too long...no one else knows where Fran is. Fran is going to starve if you don’t obey. I can give you what you desire.’’

Sam tries to slam his head into the obsidian but he can’t raise it from the wall of his cage. He tries to move his hands but they won’t follow his commands. He needs the voice too quiet. He needs it to stop. He needs it to stop! 

Sam sinks his teeth into the muscle of his right arm as tears flow down his face. The mossy green flesh tears up around his mouth. The frays of skin torn away are tipped with blood as he buries his mouth into his arm. Please stop. Make it stop. The emptiness inside him sits in his stomach grabbing at his body fat as he strains to keep his composer. He doesn’t want to eat this. He can’t even feel the pain as he shoves a slab of his own unhealthy flesh through his teeth. He has to fill the empty. He can’t be empty. He can’t feel his own hands. He can’t move his body. The smell is gone from the air. The crack in his cage is overgrown with an oozing red, it’s so dark. His mouth is numb but it starts to tingle as he pulls another long string of his skin off his arm. Eventually, Sam could feel his flesh is slightly tougher than what he’s used to. It’s a little stringy, but it’s not too tough or stringy to be agreeably edible. The taste is sweet as it covers his tongue. He needs to fix the emptiness. But he wants to stop. Lights that aren’t real sparkle in Sam’s vision as the salty tears pour down the open wound in his arm.

Feed. Feed. Feed. Feed. The smile. Feed. Feed. Feed. Feed. The smile on Tommy’s face. Feed. The smile on Tommy’s face as Sam opened and closed the raccoon puppet. Sam clicked the small recorder behind his back as a mess of cute noises spilled out from it and Tommy’s eyes lit up. The kid started complaining about the task Sam had made the puppet give him but Tommy’s eyes never lost their light. Sometimes Sam wasn’t sure if Tommy could tell he was talking to a puppet. At first, it was clear he did but over time Tommy started referring to ‘’Sam Nook’’ as a completely separate person to Sam. And after the unremorseful confessions Dream snickers aloud for the warden’s ears, Sam was worried that the kid’s mind was so desperate for a childhood it created the raccoon puppet into someone real. Sam blinks. Can he blink? Where is he? He’s so exhausted. He should just sleep. He should just let it in. It wants to feed. He is going to feed. Feed. He’s fighting for something? Right...Tommy.

‘’I can give you what you desire.’’

It wants to feed. Sam should let it feed. 

It’s so loud.

‘’What’s wrong with him? What’s wrong with him Puffy?’’ 

‘’I...I don’t even know how he’s alive.’’ Sam notices his mouth is moving. Is he talking? What’s happening? Why is he so hungry?

‘’He’s been down there for like fourteen hours!’’ Sam snaps back to reality, he doesn’t know what’s happening but he is overcome with an urgency to check on Fran. Like a lingering memory, he can’t quite place. Sam expects his heart to be pumping out of his chest, but instead, he realizes his pulse is slow. 

‘’Oh my god...How would he have slept in a box? Perhaps if he laid down vertically...like a flamingo.’’ Sam looks down at his arm and sees the blood. Ah right, feed. 

‘’Bad and Ant tried to kill me twice!’’ A voice rants. Sam is tired...he wants to sleep, he wants to see Fran. He wants...

‘’Oh my god, he’s right on top of the egg!’’ So many voices the noise surrounds Sam shocking his system and he slumps against the dark walls of his...his...he doesn’t know. 

‘’Oh...okay we need to break him out.’’ Is that? No, he recognizes the voice that continues to chatter around him.

‘’P-Puffy?’’ Sam questions his voice cracking with the dryness of his throat.

‘’No no! Sam-we’re coming Sam!’’ Puffy calls back, Sam thinks he’s relieved, or maybe he’s just tired. 

A loud sound cuts through Puffy’s hushed reassurances, ‘’SAMMIE! SAM IT’S ME YOUR BEST FRIEND!’’ Tommy. The noise causes a shiver to run down Sam’s spine and it takes him a second to realize that cold rain was running down his face from the hole above him. His body shivers again and Sam restrains a whine from the energy it uses. He blinks open his eyes to see that his blanked cage is covered in hunks of his skin that the crimson had been letting fall off him. Sam lets his eyes travel higher to see the vines covering the crack in his prison being torn off until a young face stares back at him. Right...Tommy’s smile. He’s isn’t done yet.

‘’Hi, Tommy…’’

  
  
  



End file.
